Science and craft (post on the Guardian)

This is cross-posted from my work blog, apologies to the few weirdos who read both.

There seems to be more and more events happening which I can only describe as science-craft. I thought I'd write about it, and did a post for the Guardian Science blog.

There are overlaps here with sci-art projects, just as there are overlaps (sometimes problematic ones) between arts and crafts more generally. However, I think science craft events have the potential to involve new and different communities which sci-art doesn't necessary reach, and to be more participatory in their whole project set up too.

There is the question of what you participate for exactly: what are you making? At danger of repeating myself, science communication isn't all about baking a cake shaped like a neuron. In particular, I worry that the fluffier ends of sci-craft might act as a distraction from the production of more politically controversial outcomes.

Still, we shouldn't loose sight of the use of these more playful products too. Or rather, we shouldn't ignore the power of the social interactions which surround their production. My knitting friends often laugh at me for being a 'process knitter'. I'll happily take a piece apart and re-knit it, several times. Finishing is nice. But, for me, the fun's in the doing. Similarly, I suspect much of the worth of public engagement happens in the process rather than the outcome. The various collaborative processes often involved in crafting can provide a space for people to talk through and think through ideas together. As I end the piece for the Guardian:

At a knitting evening held at Hunterian Museum a few years back, I ended up sitting next to a homeopath. As well as swapping tips on the best way to bind off for socks, we discussed our own research projects, including the ways in which they might be seen to clash, and some of the items of the history of surgery that surrounded us. Other people listened and joined in, before we all moved on to complaining about estate agents. It was polite, humorous and thoughtful. It was also pleasingly mundane; something that we’d all do well to remember a lot of science is.

To give another example, I spotted this video of a neuroscientist, Zarinah Agnew, making a giant sandcastle. She told me she wants to do it again, but as a workshop rather than a film. I like this idea, because the time spent making the sandcastle allows space for social interaction which simply watching the film might inspire, but won't necessarily do in itself.

Not all public engagement can or should have an obvious political or scientific outcome. Whether you want to open up the governance of science or increase the public understanding of science, you are unlikely to get anywhere without quite a bit of cultural change first. Playing with a bit of yarn might seem unambitious, but arguably the social interaction and reflection that comes with it can help us get there. Or this social interaction might lead us somewhere else entirely.

More DNA knitting

I few weeks ago, I posted about a DNA-themed scarf I'd knitted for a friend of mine. As it was the seventh time I'd knitted that scarf, I took the opportunity to think less about the yarn and needles, but the social relationships the making and sharing the scarves and the pattern reflected. Here's another, different, DNA-themed piece. Again, I want to reflect on the social connections this pattern reflects, because I think it's important.

It’s a cardigan for a baby. The baby’s father is a science writer (another one) who is especially interested in genetics, so I used the cable pattern from June Oshiro's famous DNA scarf. It's a lovely pattern, with a lovely story behind it. In many ways, it inspired both my DNA illusion pattern (googledoc link) and the cosmic radiation scarf I made for my PhD supervisor. I've thought about knitting Oshiro's pattern many times, but just never got around to it.

The crafting of this cardigan reflects my friendship with the new baby’s parents, but it also reflects a sort of parasocial relationship with Oshiro (as in, I’ve never met her and doubt she knows who I am, but I feel as if I know her, as I know odd bits about her life through her blog). Beyond that, it reflects the relationship Oshiro had with a colleague who challenged her to design that scarf, over a decade ago now. Indeed, it reflects decades and decades of scientists connections with each other and broader popular culture. In many ways, the image of the double helix has become part of popular culture, or at least parts of public culture. That's one of the reasons so many people knit it. The book behind the cardigan in the photo is about this issue, and I guess my desire to knit the image reflects the fact I've studied this as a sociology undergraduate.

I used to work in the Science Museum, and would walk past the 1953 Watson and Crick model they have on display there a couple of time a day. So I have an odd set of personal and professional relationships with it too - ones that are different from the relationship a geneticist would have - and have seen people from all over the world stop and think through their relationships with the icon of the double helix as they stop by the exhibit too.

Back to that baby cardigan. It's actually a mash-up of two patterns, as I also used Elizabeth Zimmerman’s 'February baby cardigan' as the basic garment. Thus, it reflecting an older and broader set of connections to knitting communities, as well as, more personally, a connection to my friend Kirsty who gave me a book of Zimmerman patterns for my birthday a few years ago. In terms of my use of both patterns, crafting this piece also reflects various other social connections, of varying degrees of tangibility, throughout the online knitting community as I’ve tracked other uses of these two patterns.

Now I’m sharing it with you – and on ravelry – it reflects another set of connections, and opens itself to further possible ones too.

On the social nature of knitting

Here's a picture of my friend Ed wearing a DNA illusion scarf I've just knitted him. Ed's a prolific and highly respected science writer (he blogs at Not Exactly Rocket Science). He recently included me on a list of top science bloggers, and I joked that if he wanted me to knit him a scarf, he only need ask. I was serious too though. I appreciate the work Ed does, but I get to read it for free. Though he does get paid for much of his writing, he also puts a crazy amount of hours in. Knitting him a scarf was a way of saying thank you.

Illusion knitting is notoriously hard to photograph, so you might have to have a look at the video in this post to really get how the trick really works.  

As I've said before, DNA and illusion knitting seemed to be made for one another. The ladders of the striping pattern twist round those of the helix as purls and knit-stitches collect  to display a regular shape. I also like that you have know how to look at the scarf to really see the pattern. There's an "OH!" moment when you spot it. Symbolic of the science it reflects, the pattern isn't self-evident.

Presenting Ed with the scarf in the pub last night it was great watching other people respond to it too, and holding it up to the eyes to spot the illusion.

I think this DNA illusion pattern is the knitting project I'm most proud of. It's not so much the product (though I do like the way it looks) or the process of knitting it (though I do enjoy illusion knitting). Rather, it's the social connections that making this scarf has either reflected or helped create.

I'm currently reading a new book about the social dimension of craft - Making is Connecting - so I guess this is on my mind at the moment.

The first one I made was for an ex-geneticist friend, as leaving present for work. I'd only recently learned to knit. Flatmate Kirsty had adapted the alien illusion scarf for her brother, with a picture of Che Guevara. I thought I'd try something similar, and that a design reflecting the iconic double helix would work really well with the illusion pattern.

Then I made another for a scientist/ knitter friend in New York, and wrote up the pattern to share. Then more started popping up. I've had emails from all over the world about the pattern. I've knitted the design into some socks for a science-teacher friend for his birthday, then as a baby blanket for a cousin, and then again as a scarf for a friend when she finished her PhD. I finally made one for myself too. A journalist from UK Wired emailed me and it ended up being mentioned there and it featured on this post on science-knitting. I swear I once spotted someone on the street wearing one (I was on the top deck of the bus at the time so couldn't run up to her and check).

The project is ravelled here if you want to see details of yarn, needles and mods. The pattern is available or through googledocs, or via ravelry.

Knitted Higgs

Last week, I knitted a Higgs Boson. I am more than aware that this is even more ridiculous than the "Rosalind" DNA illusion scarf. As least that scarf was (a) inspired by some ideas in the history and sociology of genetics (b) keeps my neck warm and toasty now the nights are drawing in. This is just blue lump (roughly 10cm wide) inspired by little more than a challenge on twitter and embroidery based on a google image search for "higgs boson". And anyway, it's really more a representation of the particle collisions working at the LHC in the search for the Higgs than the boson itself. And um... a very sketchy representation at that.

The reason for actually taking the time to bother to produce the thing was to provide a jokey prize for a competition run to encourage people to pre-order a Geek Calendar. The Geek Calendar project is, arguably, yet another ridiculous idea. Dreamed up in a pub one night, we joked that we could easily sell a calendar of nerds in aid of libel reform (quite a cause in several geeky corners of the UK). We laughed about it on twitter and got a huge response (it trended in London), thought why not and... um... a few months (and 15 photoshoots) later, we've sold several 100 on pre-orders alone already. You can see a tiny preview, but it's not even printed yet.

If I'm honest, I was already slightly sick of the self-conscious re-claiming of the word "geek" even before I started this project (positively retching at it now...). Still, I do think it's worth celebrating the various nerdish elements of contemporary life. People do specialist things. In detail. They get inspired and obsess. And they're cool. This has always been true, but I think it's more obvious today. We rely on detailed specialist knowledge more and more, and the internet has let us connect specialist interests more easily. Whether this is dedication to a cause, an over-achiever hobby or simply sharing a love of antique calculators, there's a lot of this geeking about. We rely on detailed specialist knowledge more and more, and the internet has let us connect specialist interests more easily. Crucially, this sense of specialism means there is no single definition of what a geek likes or does, there are multiple ways to get your geek on, as we all run down our own various rabbit holes. In many ways, knitting is a perfect example of this, the very niche area of science knitting, even more so.

Check out our flickr to see how much fun I've had at the photoshoots. You can pre-order a calendar now, or proper printed ones will be available from the end of October. If you want to read more about the problems of libel law in the UK, I can recommend this recent essay by Alan Rusbridger.

See also the ravelry project page for info, not that there is much more information there. Really: a blue ball, embroidered, stuffed and closed. That's it. The actual hunt for the Higgs is way more interesting.

Rosalind Scarf

Since designing my Rosalind DNA back in summer 2006, I've made six of the things. And given away each and every one of them, I decided it was high time I made one for me (plus it's been featured in WIRED. How can I not have my own version?). I've been talking about it for ages, but was inspired to finally cast on by some of my students, who are currently knitting the history of genetics.

The scarf employs a technique called illusion knitting (sometimes know as shadow knitting). When viewed straight on, it just looks like slightly wonky stripes. When viewed from the knitting's edge, however, this wonky-texture reveals itself as carefully placed bumps and gaps, and presents a hidden image. This is a picture taken while I'm wearing it, looking down my front, along the line of the pattern.




Illusion knitting is notoriously hard to either describe in words or photograph, so I've embedded a short video. There's another side-view shot at the bottom of this post, along with a picture showing the back of the scarf, where you can see a sort of fossil of the pattern. This is probably the best photo I've seen of this pattern though (i.e. not by me, and using a better contrasting set of yarns).




DNA and illusion knitting could be made for one another. Looking across the scarf, the ladders of the striping pattern twist round those of the helix as purls and knits start to bunch together to display a regular shape (at least for those initiated on how to look). The pattern's title is inspired by Rosalind Franklin (google it), and, because I thought a family reference would be appropriate, a cousin of mine.

I think my favourite illusion knitting pattern is the Cheshire Cat 'Wonderland' socks. I love illusion socks. Straight on, and it's just stripy, point your toes and the cat is revealed. With valentines soon upon us, I should probably mention the lovemeknot socks too.

The Rosalind pattern is available for download on ravelry - or through googledocs (though if you are a knitter and read blogs, er, why aren't you on ravelry?). Knit-geeks who want details of yarn, pattern mods and needles can also check the project's ravelry page.

FO: cosmic radiation scarf

Knitting service, as promised, resumed.

It seems to be traditional amongst knitting science types to make your thesis supervisor the DNA cable scarf as a thank you. My PhD over and done with (by the way, thanks for all the congratulations comments, emails and ravelry messages), I guessed it was my turn.

But it felt a tad impersonal. So I checked out what my supervisor's thesis had been on, by typing her name into the library catalogue at the university she did her PhD. Answer: black holes and quantum cosmology. (she changed research interests somewhat since then, my PhD was on kids science books).

After dabbling with knitting a black hole (could do a great reversible cowl, no?) I asked some advice from a couple of physics friends and the scientist knitters group on ravlery, finally deciding on a wave based loosely on the power spectrum of cosmic microwave background radiation.

I was all set to cable it, but after a swatch or six, it still didn't look right. So, working on the very scientific principle that simplest is best, I did a basic flat scarf and embroidered the pattern over the top.

Yarn: 100g of DK British wool from eco-annie, with a bit of my tea-dyed bamboo/wool sockyarn for the detail.
Needles: 3.25mm, my favourite short smiley-faced ones.
Pattern: basic 2-stitch, 3-row basket-weave stitch pattern over 42 sts (with a stitch slipped at either side).
Ravelled: here.

I'll finish with a shot of the finished scarf's edges against some similarly fluffy clouds. The yarn was so lovely - like working straight from the sheep.